


Hell knocks, and Delivers

by CatofApocalypse, PastelPenguins



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Asexual Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Book Omens (Good Omens), Consentacles, Crowley Has A Vulva (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Egg Laying, Eggpreg, Eggs, Fluff and Crack, He/Him Pronouns For Aziraphale (Good Omens), He/Him Pronouns For Crowley (Good Omens), I mean not yet, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Partners (Good Omens), M/M, Multi, Other, Platonic Romance, Tentacles, Tentacles Sex, before the South Downs, but he will, but sometimes it's nice to see him filled with tentacle eggs, this is hilariously awkward, you don't need to fuck your demon boyfriend
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:42:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25647508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatofApocalypse/pseuds/CatofApocalypse, https://archiveofourown.org/users/PastelPenguins/pseuds/PastelPenguins
Summary: Crowley and Aziraphale had put their respective alliances behind them. Though, there is one thing Crowley finds hard to decline...
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley/Tentacle Monster
Comments: 12
Kudos: 96





	Hell knocks, and Delivers

**Author's Note:**

> This work is less of a mess thanks to our lovely betas: Yleia, WaldosAkimbo, my1alias, GaydemonicD and OKami_hu
> 
> Reference image of the tentacles [here](https://i.imgur.com/uFA2J7k.jpg)

Crowley had completely forgotten it was that time of the decade again. And quite frankly, had he ever paid attention to the calendar other than to circle appointments with Aziraphale?

Today he had planned to visit the bookshop, as it had been a while since the last time. Hence why he was now checking himself out in the mirror despite knowing Aziraphale didn’t really care much about anyone’s appearance. Heck, the angel didn’t even care to make himself look up-to-date. Crowley was always fashionable, whilst his old friend seemed to be stuck somewhere in the 50s.

The reason, however, was that Crowley intended on taking Aziraphale out for lunch at the Ritz, as he always did… well… ever since the place was established. (He knew it didn’t sound very creative, but the angel seemed to like this place the most. In the end, if it wasn’t broken, why fix it?).

Crowley smirked at his own reflection, pleased with himself. His dark hair was as perfect as ever, and the suit was flawless. He gave himself several sprays of a flowery fragrance and finally put the shades over his eyes. This was going to be a good day.

He soon realized he had assumed too early.

Crowley did not expect, upon stepping through the front door, to see a large package in front of his flat. The box looked to have been carelessly put together, with cracks here and there and was badly secured with some kind of tape that was so old it had turned brownish.

It looked like it had been through Hell.

Literally.

Oh…

He frowned at the thing. 

After the not-quite-end of the world, he hardly cared about his job. Hell didn’t care to check in on him either. Adam had made them all forget about the event, and thus there was no reason for Downstairs to bother him. Even Crowley found it hard to piece together what had happened.

So the fact that there was a package that most likely had come from Below, was concerning. On top of that, it seemed to be _drooling_ as the box was oozing some sort of slimy liquid...

There was a moldy handwritten letter glued to the top of the package; Crowley peered at it. Then he leaned even closer to read again, and finally smacked a hand to his forehead.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Crowley looked left and right. No humans were around, good!

It took a few minutes to drag the package into his living quarters. He brought it directly into the bedroom, where he then sat down on the bed, staring at the thing as if it was his sworn enemy.

Crowley removed his shades, placing them on the nightstand, then looked at the note that was in his hand. He wrinkled his nose at it. The coarse and slightly damp texture of the paper did not exactly feel pleasant to hold. Though, unfortunately, with how some of the ink had been washed away and smudged about beneath the moldy stains, he had to hold it quite close. He was pretty sure he got the gist of it just from the few words that seemed to still be intact somehow. Still, he wanted to make sure and so, scanning the page he read:

> C ~~r~~ ~~awley~~ owley, it’s time for you-know-what. Any assignments you’re still on are postponed until your clutch matures and the older Eriks come to retrieve them. 
> 
> Make sure not to fuck this up.
> 
> \- Lord of Files

Crowley groaned. He had assumed they'd stopped doing that. Apparently this wasn’t the case. What was the point anyway? It wasn’t like Hell needed more. There was no war to prepare for. Though he was aware the Eriks tended to get killed by some of the other demons for entertainment.

The box rattled a little, forcing him to give it some attention. He technically could send it back and resign from the project but… he would be lying if he said he didn’t want to be a part of it. He had been doing this for centuries, and it was hardly a hardship since he enjoyed it.

Crowley crumpled the paper and tossed it aside. He supposed Aziraphale would have to wait for another week.

The thought of calling the angel before opening the box came to mind, if only fleetingly, as he moved to open it. The tape practically disintegrated as he pulled at it, causing dust from the glue to get on his fingers. Then the flaps fell open and any other notions about contacting Aziraphale failed to form as what was inside popped out and seemed to look around curiously, then up at him. 

Though looking might have been an exaggeration as there wasn’t really any way for the glistening creature to look at anything. Perhaps “sense” was a better word. The fact they were soaked explained the reason the box seemed to be drooling. At least now he didn’t have to really worry about what was steadily seeping through the cardboard and onto the floor of his flat. Though it would probably be a pretty bad slipping hazard if he didn’t get it cleaned up when he had a chance to.

Crowley’s musing was abruptly cut off when he saw the attention was finally on him and he blinked. Then he turned his gaze back on the box before finally sighing aloud and leaning forward to set his elbow on one thigh. His lips quirked up while resting a cheek in the palm of his hand, while his other hand reached out for the curious content of the box to nuzzle.

“Glad to see you all were the ones Hell sent this time. Was running out of names to give each new little guy,” he said. Crowley grinned as one tentacle lazily wrapped around his wrist, the tip of it rubbing up against the pad of his thumb affectionately. The others followed suit, wrapping around his forearm or legs. While another, the one with a single maw took his other four fingers and sucked gently, almost tentatively. 

“Really Petunia? That’s the first thing you do the moment you see me again?” Crowley chuckled as it sucked a bit harder in reply, causing him to roll his eyes. Then he reached out to gently rub his forefinger against the top of it, feeling the rubbery texture of the tentacle underneath the viscous... slime? lubricant? that the creatures all seemed to excrete naturally. He wasn’t really sure what the term for the natural slick was, but supposed it didn’t matter if he remembered or not.

One thing he did remember though, was what the slimy coating of the creature was for.

Crowley lifted his finger, a trail of the thick mucus followed his hand before breaking off. With a smirk, he proceeded to put said digit into his mouth. The sweetness spiked his palate, and he let out the softest hum.

The tendrils immediately reacted to that and moved further out of the box. The ones that had already latched onto one of his arms advanced. It was then that he realized not taking off the suit wasn’t the brightest idea. The tentacles were soaking the fabric. Oh well, too late.

“Easy now,” Crowley tapped a finger at the tip of a hasty appendage. This one was small and green, like vines. There were actually a lot of them coming out now. “Quite impatient today, aren’t you, Fern?”

The thin tentacle flinched and hesitated to move forward. He chuckled. Despite not wanting them to get to work too fast, Crowley felt his body had gotten more sensitive to their touches. His cheeks flushed at the thoughts of what was to come. He glanced at the bed and stood up.

“Come on. You know I’m not doing this on the floor.” 

The tentacles paused their advance at that, questioningly bobbing and wriggling at his tone. It was still light, but also more neutral than an incubator who would welcome their touch immediately’s tone would be. Though that didn’t mean the ones holding onto him would let go just yet, even if their grip did slightly loosen.

In fact, a few of them actually seemed to convey that they were pouting, what with the way they tilted with the tips of them curling slightly. All while the ones still touching his suit began to excrete more aphrodisiac, soaking the clothing even more.

"Don't give me that look," Crowley said a little more firmly. He half pulled away, and half led the tentacles to follow him to the bed. 

The liquid that had seeped through his suit began to warm him up. So, once he was at the bed, Crowley didn't really care to take any piece of his clothing off anymore. He sat down on the edge of the mattress, while looking fondly at the blue tentacles that were nudging at his leg. He remembered calling them “Lilies”.

Upon realizing their incubator had stopped moving, the appendages took no time to creep up his thighs and arms, releasing more of their juices. The tiny green ones had already started exploring between the folds of his clothing. Some even found the gap at the hem of his trousers.

Well, he got what he wanted, no need to hold back anymore.

The blue ones continued their gentle nudging, as if pleading for permission. More warmth came to Crowley's cheeks when he realized what it reminded him of. This prompted him to pet them.

"I know, I know," he soothed and lifted one of the blue ones to give it a kiss.

It practically vibrated with delight and pressed more firmly against the kiss. A few of the other blue ones tilted quizzically, tips pointed in the direction of Crowley’s face before lazily moving to poke at his cheeks. Then they began to nuzzle the sides of his jaw and move in a stroking motion to pet at his cheeks and temples, also seeming to vibrate happily.

The others continued to rub and nudge between the folds in his clothing. While the ones at the hem of Crowley’s trousers moved to curl around his ankles and move up his calves before pulling back. A second later they dove back in, gently rubbing against the calves in a back and forth motion.

Aphrodisiac was dripping from both the thighs of Crowley’s trousers and his sleeves, tentacles finally finding the way into them even as the clothing stuck to his skin.

Crowley found himself heating up more and more. His skin had become so sensitive; he wasn't able to handle even the slightest movement of his clothing. Knowing he was alone, Crowley let out a short gasp when he felt one of the small tendrils had slipped under his shirt.

He finally let himself slowly fall onto the soft mattress, and immediately moaned at the touch of the fabric. 

The tentacles took advantage of this and slipped more under his clothing. The blue ones now moved to do their job. They began excreting a warm liquid that melted holes in his shirt and pants, where they could grip and tear the fabric open, and two more blue ones grabbed around his shin just then, forcing his legs open.

Heat gathered in Crowley's groin at the sight. They were gentle, yet were demonstrating such strength. Like a certain someone. 

Speaking of…

Crowley snapped out of his daze when he heard his ringtone. He eyed the buzzing bulge in his pocket and realized he had forgotten to put his cell phone somewhere safe. And there was only one person on his contact list who would ever call him.

"Oooh... _fuck_..."

The sounds Crowley made just seemed to spur the tentacles on. The two blue ones continued to keep his legs open while two more of them moved to rub at his inner thighs, believing the moaned words to be his enjoyment of their touch.

The little green ones, the tentacles Crowley called "Ferns", continued rubbing his calves. The ones that could suck wormed into the holes made on his clothing where they could comfortably leave small suction marks on his skin. A few even grew bold enough to place the marks on his inner thighs around where the Lilies were currently massaging.

A brown tentacle, dubbed “Iris” at one point by Crowley, began bobbing and circling the demon, attempting to find a spot that its nubs could press against and wouldn’t have its ministrations impeded by the others. At the same time, the vibration of the phone grew more persistent and Crowley worried his bottom lip. _Fuck!_ He always picked up so fast when the angel called. But...this was hardly the time. 

The call ended, only to come back again just a few seconds later. And with it, the guilt. It was even more difficult to focus now, as his mind kept switching between worry and pleasure. What would happen if Aziraphale needed him and he wasn't there? Past experience had shown him how wrong things could have been.

But he didn't want to risk talking to Aziraphale right now. Not while he was being….

Oh the Hell with it!

"Hnn~" A suction Fern left a tiny hickey at his neck, making him writhe for a moment before he could pull one hand away from the tentacles to get his phone.

The moment he hit answer and placed the device to his ear, Crowley was met by the angel's enthusiastic voice.

"Crowley!" 

"Hey, hnn...Aziraphale..." the demon bit back a moan.

"I thought you were busy... Are you?" Aziraphale asked cautiously. "I hope I didn't interrupt anything important."

A black tentacle, whose tip branched into a smaller, thinner tendril, nudged at Crowley’s hand, curious as to why he seemed to stop making as much noise as before. 

When the demon moved his hand to nudge it away, the smaller tendril flicked at him in the same way Crowley’s snake tongue might try to. Then it poked at his hand again before moving to let that thinner tendril flick at his lips, then nuzzled at the corner of his mouth, asking permission.

Crowley lightly smacked the black tendril aside, not wanting it to get into his mouth now.

"Uhh... Kind of." He realized it probably came off negative, he quickly added "but no! No, no, not really-” Ugh, if only the damn tendril would hold on a second. “No, Angel. What's up?"

There was a moment of silence from the other end, then Aziraphale finally spoke. "If you say so, dear. I've been well. A few things have happened at the shop. Don't worry, all fine. Just quite amusing."

"Glad to hear!"

Crowley observed his tight trousers being torn apart by the strong tentacles, exposing his black underwear. He swallowed, feeling another wave of heat gather between his legs.

Aziraphale proceeded to start talking about how he hadn't seen him in a while, and so, was wondering if everything was alright on his end.

Surely things were very fine right now...

"Nothing's wrong. I've just been... napping the past couple of dayssss." Crowley hissed and looked back down to his lower half. Iris, the grindy brown tentacle with hundreds of little bumps on its underside, like a starfish's array of legs, had finally found itself a good spot. It had started rubbing at his efforts through the briefs.

Crowley bit his tongue to stop himself from making any more noises, and his hips bucked at the gentle brushing of the tentacle.

"I see. I hope I didn't wake you, dear." 

“Nah, it’s fine. I was up already.” Crowley waved his hand dismissively. 

“Were you? Thank goodness,” Aziraphale sighed in relief. "Actually, Crowley, I was wondering…”

Crowley could imagine the angel nervously fumbling with the phone cord from the way he said it. The angel had always had a habit that would come through over the phone from just the tone of his voice.

“...if you would like to go for lunch today. My treat this time."

Crowley writhed in frustration. 

Of fucking course the angel would want to go out _now_ …

“Er, see the thing about that….” Crowley swallowed. Seriously? Why did it have to be now? Why couldn’t Aziraphale just check up later?

Well, he supposed not. It had been a bit since they last saw each other and what with them being on their own side now, there was reason to worry if communication stopped between them for a length of time.

He opened his mouth to continue speaking only for a gasp to leave him. His hips jolted hard, abruptly, as one of Iris’ bumps pressed on the slit of his effort. When his hips landed back on the bed, there was a dull thump to accompany it.

"Crowley?" 

"Ah, yes, yes, I'm here... " the demon quickly replied, a tad breathlessly.

"I'm sorry, dear, but I didn't quite catch what you were saying," Aziraphale said. "I probably shouldn't be using this rotary dial phone anymore. It's quite difficult to understand you sometimes. But... you know..."

"It's fine!" 

Crowley glared at a suction tendril that threatened to attack his nose and he ducked down to avoid it.

There was silence, as if Aziraphale was waiting for something. Crowley, meanwhile, was distracted trying to keep the tentacles away from his crotch (for just one freaking moment!). He did a bit of a shooing motion, which kind of worked. The tentacles were confused enough to back off.

"So, dear, about lunch..." Aziraphale's voice came through the speaker, obviously less excited, if not borderline sulking.

"Right, lunch. Yeahh..." Crowley cursed under his breath. He would have to decline no matter what. "Sorry, Angel. I can't make it today." 

"Oh." A moment of silence lingered where Crowley continued fighting to keep his breathing even and quiet. "You're busy?"

And there it was. Crowley felt like someone had stabbed his chest. His body tensed up. 

"Well, yeah, technically I... HEY STOP THAT" Crowley gently slapped Iris from trying to mess with his effort again.

"Stop what?"

 _Bollocks!_ Now Crowley needed to rescue himself from the fuck up. As if he wasn’t having enough to deal with already.

"Oh! Oh, no, not you, Angel. I was...er. I was…” A Lily massaged his thigh and he had to close his eyes to focus better on his thoughts. “Yelling at the plants. At the… yes! As I do. Yeah, completely normal..."

At the scolding, the tentacles all seemed to flinch back; a few even lost their grip on him for a moment. Slowly, the tentacles began to move forward to poke or stroke his legs and sides, though a few seemed hesitant now.

The tone Crowley had used during the scolding had the black tentacle curling in on itself and twisting side to side. As it seemed to try and decide on something, its smaller tendril wiggled slightly. 

“Your plant?” Aziraphale asked quietly, which brought Crowley’s attention back to the conversation. At least it sounded like the angel bought the lie.

“Yup. Unruly bunch.”

Said unruly black tentacle decided to intrude on Crowley’s effort to keep up a mundane conversation with Aziraphale again. Once nestled between his thighs, its smaller tendril started gently nudging and circling the tight bud of his anus, attempting to relax it as the warm, viscous, almost gel-like liquid it naturally secreted began to coat the muscle.

"Anyway, yeah, there's some business that... that… came up..." Crowley stuttered, thinking hard to come up with a reason why he would be absent for a week, at the same time trying to tell the black tentacle to back off. It was the kind that carried a relaxant, and he knew if he let it go inside of him, it would be the end. Especially since the rim that had been licked had started feeling so damn good already.

Crowley took a deep breath and blurted, "I'll not be available for another week." He held the black tendril away with his free hand. It wiggled in obvious frustration.

"A whole week?" 

"Yes, sssorry." 

"May I know why? If...it's not intrusive?" Aziraphale asked, and Crowley could very much hear that pout.

"It's complicated, but don't worr- oooh ohh fuck... Nightshade, NO!"

Crowley frantically scolded as the black tentacle's tongue lengthened. The slime made it much easier for the thing to slip out of his grasp. It probably decided it had had enough of his resistance and went straight forward, sliding right into his entrance.

"Ooohhh fuuuuuck!" the demon howled, arching up. His legs tried to struggle but the blue slimy arms of the monster held him still in place.

"Crowley?"

"A-Aziraphale-" said Crowley urgently, breathless. "I'll tell you... when we meet. Sorry... I...Hnn... Bye angel!" The demon frantically pressed the red button to end the call and immediately dropped his phone, which bounced off the bed.

The blue tentacles pressed his legs down more firmly when they felt him strain, as well as moving to pin his arms down by encircling his wrists and upper arms. While two of the Ferns moved to nuzzle his cheeks.

As the Lilies held Crowley in place, Nightshade stayed pressed firmly to his entrance, its larger half just a tad too wide to slide in without force. The thinner, smaller tendril it had inside of Crowley began pressing in and out quickly, swirling around to coat the inner walls in relaxant.

While Nightshade was working on opening Crowley up, Iris latched more firmly onto his effort, nubs moving in a sort of wave, with a small section of it attached to part of his shaft as another released in a pulsating rhythm, trading off in tandem.

The smartphone on the floor was once again vibrating, but Crowley couldn't care less now. Not that he didn't want to care…. Honestly, could anyone think straight in his situation anyway?

The relaxant was doing wonderful things to his insides. His muscles eased, and all he could focus on was how the thin tongue of the tentacle felt as it wiggled about deep within. He could tell exactly where it was and what it was doing. Same went to the tentacle with little bumps that was stimulating his member. Glancing down, Crowley blushed at the sight of how hard and red his cock had gotten.

One of the Ferns found his nipples and wrapped itself around one, squeezing hard. The demon gasped. With his limbs secured, he could only watch and react to everything, unable to run away from the intense pleasure that felt almost painful.

"Gosh... how pent up are you lot?” He chuckled weakly as he saw a new tentacle had shown up. This one was lemon-ish in color and he believed he had dubbed it "Buttercup". The tentacle was a decent size, with the tip resembling an ordinary penis, and a bit below that was something shaped like a flower that it would use to latch onto his mouth.

The tentacle was already oozing its transparent nectar, which smelled like honey. Sweet and tempting. It nudged at the corner of his lips pleadingly. 

"Yeah... missed you too." Crowley smirked hazily. 

Some of the nectar had already coated the corner of his mouth from where Buttercup had touched. Crowley couldn’t help the way a spark of pleasure shot through him when the side of his tongue brushed the sweetness on his lips.

As soon as the wet tip arrived, he stuck his tongue out to catch the dripping liquid.

The nectar pooled on his tongue as the tentacle flared its flower like protrusions. They fluttered, showing how pleased the tentacle was at the soft sigh its subject made.

Crowley had no reason to decline and opened his mouth for it to introduce itself. 

* * *

Aziraphale frowned as more of that incessant noise came from the busy tone of his phone. Crowley had hung up on him so hastily that it had, well, seemed rather odd. Though perhaps he had just caught the serpent at a bad time.

He bit his lip, finger tangling terribly in the phone cord due to his anxiety over the situation. Perhaps he was just calling back too soon?

Aziraphale made a noise at that thought and slowly set the phone back into the designated base of the contraption. Crowley would call him back when he had a chance. He did just wake up after all. Plus, seeing as he had been given a timeframe on when the demon would be free to see him again, he hadn’t anything to worry about, right?

The angel paced around his shop, absent-mindedly adjusting stacks of books that really didn't need any adjusting in the first place or pulling some off the shelf to read, but eventually put them back up without opening any.

The more he thought about it, the more suspicious he got. He doubted Crowley was really just gardening. He knew how Crowley talked to his plants and was aware that the demon never referred to them by name when he was in their presence. Not that he never named them. Aziraphale had heard the names come up in conversations before. It was more about keeping it impersonal when he terrified them.

Was he lying? To his knowledge, Crowley had never lied to him. Of course the demon was capable of lying, but he couldn't remember if Crowley had ever done that to him in the past.

And, while Aziraphale wasn't one to think highly of himself, he couldn't think of any reason why Crowley would decline going out with him other than... when he was busy with a task from Hell….

The way his friend was making strange noises, the suspicion that he wasn't being truthful, and the possibility of him being harassed by some demons, made Aziraphale restless for the next quarter of an hour. He tried calling once again and upon receiving no answers, the angel decided he needed to make sure things were alright.

Aziraphale put his beige coat over his casual wear of shirt and wool sweater then headed out.

It was only as Aziraphale walked towards his destination that he truly regretted his lack of a vehicle. While he was against speeding, he couldn’t help but wish that’s what he was doing at the moment, and he regretted taking so long to decide to head over to the flat even more. Unfortunately - in his state of mind - he had forgotten that he could just have miracled himself over. 

The angel hurried to the lift as soon as he arrived. Despite being someone who preferred to do everything at a slow, steady speed for his own enjoyment, Aziraphale felt as if human technology was not fast enough today as he waited for the lift to take him up.

Upon arriving on the desired floor, Aziraphale rushed to Crowley's door and banged on it. 

"Crowley, dear? Are you home?"

After the fifth time knocking without any answers, Aziraphale was ready to leave for another location he thought Crowley might be at. Maybe the demon had really gone outside for some work. Though, aside from Hell's work, what else could it be?

But...didn't they decide to retire? Did Crowley not do as planned? Was he not being honest? Aziraphale shook his head and sighed. _No_ , he knew Crowley. It couldn't have been the case.

Then this left the other possibility. That Hell had forced him to do something. The angel fumbled his fingers, pacing back and forth at the door. _Where was-_

There was a sound of something falling over that started him. It was not loud enough for any human passing by to hear, but Aziraphale was no human. It had definitely come from within the flat.

He hesitated for a moment. Intruding someone's home was not his thing. He told himself he would just be taking a look to make sure, and then he would leave the flat as it was. With that reasoning in mind, Aziraphale clicked his fingers to miracle himself through the front door.

There was no one inside, to his surprise. At least, not in the front room. Aziraphale carefully ventured in, peeking into each of the rooms. As he got closer to the bedroom, however, a muffled moan alerted him. 

Without thinking twice, the angel decided his best friend of 6,000 years was in danger and burst through the door.

"Crowley!" He shouted, and froze at the sight before his eyes.


End file.
